Told Me to Tell You
by Sky the wolfdog9
Summary: WWII AU.  Oneshot.  Alfred, Matthew, Francis and Arthur all enlist in the Air Force.  One of them will die.  It's bound to happen.  USUK and Franada.


** My house is cold…baw. That sucks. And sorry if this is kind of inaccurate (air craft wise).**

**XXXX**

"_Whoo! Hell yeah—did you see that England_?"

"Yes I did America, now please, refrain from doing such risky things."

"_Don't worry England! I'll be alive when you kiss me—I'm not dying!"_

"You and that hard head of you—shit!" Arthur, his nickname being England, pulled his plane to the side sharply, gunfire clearly audible behind him. Alfred, nicknamed America, had just finished showing off his aerobatics along with shooting down a German jet in his propeller powered P-51. "Agh! I can't shake him!"

"_Hold on England! I'll get this guy! Damn! He's fast! Whoo!"_ Arthur didn't understand how Alfred could treat all of this like a game. "_Dive England, dive! I got 'im!" _Arthur grit his teeth together and pulled his plane into a dive, the jet following him, intent on shooting Arthur down. His plane jolted and Arthur attempted to weave the German pilot off.

"I'm hit!" he looked to his left wing before turning to check his right. "Right wing, from what I'm seeing, seven holes America—do something quick!"

"_I got it, I got it!"_ Arthur looked behind him just to see the jet tailing him jolt a few times before a fire erupted. The jet continued to shoot at Arthur, his plane jostling from being shot once more before being completely shot down by Alfred. "_Whoo! Floored that bastard! How're ya England? I'm seeing nine holes and the guy got you again, but I'm not seeing anything. You're smokin'."_

"Of course I'm trailing smoke you git! I just got shot at—jet two 'o' clock!" he pulled his plane into a sharp turn as another jet came after him, the German, luckily, missing Arthur with every shot. "He's gaining on me!"

_"Yup, yup, I've got this one Angleterre!_"

"_Whoo!"_ he heard Alfred whoop as Francis's plane came zooming by, the sound of his guns unloading clear, shooting the jet out of the sky easily. Arthur smiled and let loose of the breath he had been holding. "_Hell yeah France! Ah…we can always count on you when we're in trouble—I'd have to admit, I don't think I would've been able to get that guy and England would be…well, let's just say bad things would've happened if it weren't for you."_

"_Ah, thank you mon ami~"_ Francis's voice was sly and cheerful which made Arthur roll his eyes. He held the mask closer to his face so he could speak to his other two friends.

"Don't encourage him America…"

"_Ha, ha! But I'm encouraging him to save us!"_

Arthur, Alfred, Francis and Matthew had all become good high school friends in the early nineteen thirties. Once they finished school, they had all entered college, but Alfred and Francis dropped out early, Arthur and Matthew finishing the four years they had signed up for. When World War Two broke out, Alfred had jumped for the opportunity. Francis and Matthew soon followed and Arthur was dragged along. He didn't exactly want to join the Air Force, but then again, he didn't strongly object and hanging out with the other three as pilots didn't sound so bad.

"Whatever you say America," Arthur smiled, his reply slightly delayed. He jumped and look to his right when something exploded. "We've got a bomber going down America, stay close to them as much as possible—we're protecting them, let's keep that in mind."

"_I won't get my hopes up on Amerique listening to you_," Francis chuckled. Arthur looked to his left where Francis was currently flying next to him just as the Frenchman pulled his plane away from Arthur's, a German jet following after him. "_Help me out Angleterre! Don't just sit there!"_

"I'm coming!"

"Hey England, wait up, let's double team this bastard!" America grinned, tilting his plane so that he followed his boyfriend. "Wha'ddya say about that?"

"_I say you stay there and protect that bomber that's being attacked right next to you."_

"Aww, you're not fun, we make such a good team…" Alfred pouted, but pulled his P-51 to the right nonetheless, shooting at the jet that was currently molesting the bomber closest to Alfred. "C'mon buddy, let's dance," Alfred grinned, swinging out of the way just as the jet shot at him, flying head-on in his direction.

"_America! That was a stupid move, he's now behind you!"_ Arthur wailed.

"Why are you watching me when you're supposed to be helping France out?" Alfred asked, leaning to the side as if doing so would make his turn sharper. "Ha, ha! Don't worry, I got this sucker—check me out baby!" Alfred whooped and pulled his plane into a fancy turn, the nose of his plane still pointed at the jet so he could shoot at it as the German air craft flew by, not exactly expecting the move. "Whoo! I got—aw damn!" he swore when he felt his plane jolt, the sound of bullets meeting metal filling his ears. He looked to his left and saw that his left wing had gotten hit a good few times. "England, I'm hit too! Welcome me to your club!"

"_This isn't a game America!"_ came Arthur's slightly peeved reply and Alfred chuckled, smiling toothily. His grin only widened when Francis shot down the jet that was threatening Arthur.

"_Boom, boom! Ah…sometimes I wish I was flying a SPAD…"_ typical Francis to want to fly an old French fighter biplane.

"Why? This isn't the Great War France," Alfred grinned, turning his plane to the left so he could chase an already damaged Me 262. "Man, these jets…I have a feeling that Germany was just bragging about them, 'cause all I'm seeing is speed—either that or we're amazing pilots," he winked at nobody in particular. "We got this in the bag."

"_Mwah, wonderful Amerique, you're so flattering,"_ Francis chuckled, making a kissing sound before he spoke. "_Hup, Angleterre, let's go get those two~"_

"Fine," Arthur huffed, following not too far behind Francis. The two of them were headed for three jets teaming up on one of their allies Yao. "How're you fairing China? We're coming."

"_Ugh—dammit, I'm leaking fuel, yuck, it smells horrible in here, but I'm fine other than that,"_ Yao replied, tone slightly disgusted. "_Hope you can't get high off of shit like this…"_ he then groaned and Francis laughed hardily. "_I'm serious France! The smell's so strong here and if it _can_ get you high, I'll probably crash during landing! That'd suck!"_

_ "What makes you think you'll live long enough to make it home?"_ Francis asked, obviously joking. Yao wailed angrily at Francis to just help him out and the two of them immediately jumped to action, shooting at the three jets chasing Yao, corkscrewing as they did so. "_Ha, ha, ha! Angleterre, despite what all of this actually is—this is amazing!"_

Arthur watched Francis's plane corkscrew through a smoke cloud produced from one of the jets the Frenchman had just blown up. "Don't make yourself dizzy frog," he rolled his eyes and pulled his P-51 into a loop once one of the Me 262 chasing Yao changed its sights from the Chinese pilot to Arthur. "Okay you, let's get this party started…"

Arthur ended up chasing the jet which was obviously a fights he'd lose. The Me262 turned and began shooting at him, catching Arthur slightly off guard and catching a bullet in his shoulder. With a pained grunt, Arthur checked his shoulder quickly before unloading on the German jet. Surprised that he'd run out of ammunition so quickly, Arthur turned and was soon being chased by the jet. "Aw shit! France, come help me, come help me! I'm empty!"

"_Are you kidding me? I'm surprised America hasn't run out before you!"_ Arthur completed the loop he had pulled his monoplane into, the jet gaining quickly on him. "_Dive Angleterre! Go steep!"_ Francis then called and Arthur did as told, no questions asked. He looked up to see Francis's and Yao's plane shooting at the jet simultaneously, blowing the thing up. "_Whoo! Charming, just charming, I might have to marry this baby,"_ Francis cheered.

"Poor Canada wouldn't know what hit him," Arthur shook his head and Francis laughed in reply.

"_Ah, you're just such a fun guy Angleterre," _Francis sighed fondly. He then piped up energetically, "_Whoa, whoa! Careful Angleterre, you've got a jet following you—I'll take care of him!"_

"Alright!" Arthur pulled his plane to the left. He could hear the jet, but couldn't see it…

"_England, why aren't you shooting?"_ came Alfred's voice, a hint of worry in his tone. "_Are your guns jammed?"_

"No! I'm out of ammunition—help France out if you're not doing anything important!" Arthur grunted as a few bullets made contact with one of his wings, damaging it further. "Gah! And I've got a bullet in my right shoulder."

"_You've been hit? Hell no! These bastards are going down!"_ Alfred growled. He no longer saw it as a game now that his boyfriend had been injured. Arthur heard a second P-51 motor join the first, which was likely Francis's and assumed that Alfred had joined the Frenchman in chasing down the jet threatening Arthur's life.

"_France! Behind you! Behind—no dammit!"_ Yao wailed and Arthur looked over his injured shoulder in an attempt to catch sight of what was going on. His eyes widened when he saw Francis's plane veer off to the side, smoke trailing from it and falling. "_France! France! Are you okay?"_

_ "I'm fine! I'm fi—!"_ Francis suddenly coughed. There was a brief moment of nothing from the Frenchman before he came back on. "_Ugh, I'm…not fine…I've been hit…"_

_ "Hold on France, I've got him, I've got him! The bastard's going down! You'll be okay! Remember, Canada will hate you for dying, hang on!" _Alfred's voice was slightly frantic and gunfire erupted behind him. Arthur veered his plane to the side just as a jet came crashing past him, fire and smoke erupting violently from it as it fell for the earth below.

Arthur lowered his altitude just a bit so that he was level with Francis. Looking over, he mentally cringed at how much blood that was spattered on one side of the canopy. "France, you're tilting, level yourself," Arthur advised, voice surprisingly soft from shock. He knew it was very likely to happen, but nonetheless didn't expect it. "France, nose up and level out, you're going to spin out if you don't do so."

"_O-okay…oh Angleterre…Arthur, tell Matthew I love him…"_ Arthur saw Francis shake his head wearily and his heart squeezed uncomfortably in his chest. He didn't want to lose his best friend.

"Don't talk like that France, come on, all you need to do is bring your nose up…" he sighed in relief when the nose of Francis's plane pulled up so that Francis wasn't running the risk of spinning out of control. "Good. That's good France, now just take a few breaths and I can fly you back…I'm out of ammunition anyways."

"_I'm not going to make it…I can't make it, it hurts, God damn it…I, I-I don't want to die. I'm sorry Matthieu, Matthieu, I love you…"_ Francis's voice was so heartbroken.

"Control what you say France! I already told you not to talk like that! France! Pull up! France!" Arthur wailed, gritting his teeth when Francis's plane tilted to the side once more, nose dipping. "France! Pull up, dammit, listen to me you damn frog! Pull! Up! France!" the plane finally flipped and was thrown into violent corkscrews. "Pop the canopy! Pop the damn canopy! France listen to me! France! _FRANCIS!"_

He was too late. Francis's plane crashed into the ground at high speeds, erupting violently. He flew away from the sight, too shocked to look away from the space in front of him. Gradually, he returned to reality and grit his teeth and pounded the side of the cockpit angrily. "No, no_, no_! Damn it! _NO_! You bloody bastard!" his voice was broken and angry.

"_England! England! Not to sound like a jerk, but I kinda need you as a distraction for this bastard! France isn't answering for some reason and I need someone's help!"_ came Alfred, sounding irritated with whatever he was doing. "_France better not be ignoring me!"_

Arthur remained silent as a tear rolled down his cheek. He sniffed and pounded the side of the cockpit once more, though it was more of a weak tap. "_E-England? England? A-are you there? England? Please don't tell me you're gone…please answer Arthur!" _Alfred's voice was desperate and full of horror. The American then took in a quick, fearful inhale that broke Arthur's heart. "_H-hello?"_

"…I'm still alive Al…" he shook his head and numbly looked back at the smoke cloud billowing up into the sky from the spot Francis just crashed and died. He knew he couldn't say what he was about to say next without sobbing. "But Francis isn't…" he shook his head once more. He was out of ammunition and his best friend had just died. He didn't know what to do. "Wh-where's Canada? Can I tell him?"

There was a very long silence and Arthur began to fear that Alfred had just suffered the same fate as Francis. "_He's way off on the other side of this whole fight, I don't think he saw a thing…yeah, you should tell him_."

Matthew was never really talkative during dogfights and for a good reason. The Canadian liked to have his full attention on the task at hand and Arthur respected that. The Canadian had his radio off most of the times and Alfred would wiggle his wings so that his cousin knew that he wanted him to turn on his radio. "_I'll go signal him to turn on his radio…he's not fighting right now_…"

Arthur nodded his head even though Alfred couldn't see the physical gesture. There was a brief moment of nothing as Arthur returned to the dogfight scene, most of the German jets having retreated.

"_Good job guys, let's head back, bombers are past the safe point," _came their Cuban leaders voice.

"_…M'kay England…Canada has his radio on…"_

"Good," Arthur nodded his head and sighed. He didn't know if he could tell the Canadian, but knew he had to. "Canada? Canada, can you hear me?"

"_Loud and clear England, man, that was some good action we just saw there,"_ Matthew's voice was so euphoric after surviving another dogfight that Arthur almost lost the heart to break the news to the Canadian. "_And what's up with you? Are you hurt? England, what's wrong?"_ at least he sounded concerned now.

"I-I," he lost his voice briefly. His throat constricted and went bone dry. "I need to tell you something…"

"_W-what's wrong? You sound like Al just died!"_ Matthew laughed in a nervous, unbelieving way. "_Come on, we're all going home now…"_

"No we're not," Arthur sobbed frustratingly. "No we're not—Francis is dead Matthew…"

There was a long silence and once they were almost back to their base in England, Matthew finally replied. "_…Y-you better not be pulling something with Al…"_ his voice was shaky and thick with heartbreak. "_B-because if it is, I'll never forgive you…"_

_ "_I'm not joking around Matthew! He's dead! He crashed! I saw it with my own damn eyes!" Arthur barked angrily. "I'm crying my God damn eyes out and I haven't shed a single damn tear for that bastard!"

"_E-England calm down…"_ Alfred advised shakily. "_Canada, how much fuel you got left? I'm running low…"_

_ "I…I don't want to talk about how much fucking fuel we have! Oh God…Arthur why didn't you _do_ anything?"_ Matthew wailed.

"I was out of ammunition! I couldn't do anything!"

"_What the hell are you three arguing about? Save it for base, we don't want to hear about your problems,"_ Feliks, another one of their pilot acquaintances, muttered irritably. "_Ugh, you're making my head hurt more…I'm losing so much blood…"_

_ "Francis is dead, so unless you have no interest turn off your damn radio!"_ Matthew snapped.

"_Calm down Canada! Poland, turn off your radio!"_ Alfred's voice was full of confused frustration. "_England, nose up, you're dipping."_

Arthur hadn't noticed that he was descending and pulled the nose of his plane up so that he was no longer doing so. They all suddenly fell silent and the run way eventually came into sight. "Canada…Canada, you're coming in too hot…Canada, is your radio on? Damn it! America! Get Canada to turn on his radio!"

Without a reply, Arthur watched Alfred level with Matthew and move his plane just enough so that he was wiggling his wings. Matthew stubbornly refused the request and Alfred angrily let out a yell from what Arthur was seeing. Alfred eventually had to slow down if he didn't want to come in on the run way too fast and the two watched as Matthew descended so that he could land.

"_How can I forgive you two?"_

"_Thank the Lord that you turned on your damn radio! You'll forgive us by slowing the fuck down! You're coming in too fast!"_ Alfred barked angrily. Arthur looked over to see the frustration painted all over his boyfriends face.

"_I-I noticed that…b-but I have to land, the others are behind me and I don't want to hit anyone…"_ Matthew sobbed suddenly. "_Oh God Alfred…"_

"_Mattie just—ugh! I don't know what to do_ _Arthur! Help me out! Just—just try to land as softly as possible!"_ Alfred instructed frantically. The two watched the landing gear come out from under Matthew's P-51's wings.

"_Too fast…Al, I'm going too fast…" _Matthew sounded lost._ "And weather's bad…wind's gonna knock me over…Alfred, help me!"_

_ "I-I don't know what to do!" _Alfred sounded just as lost, but not in a sorrowful way like Matthew. "_Arthur what do I do? Arthur help me! I don't want to lose Matthew either!"_

"Slow you plane down the best you can Matthew, be easy on it though—this wind is pretty bad," Arthur muttered his numb advice, tilting his plane to the right slightly so the wind that was picking up wouldn't tip him over. He grunted in frustration when Matthew's plane jerked violently. "I told you to do it softly! Don't force it!"

"_Arthur I can't do it! I can't do it!" _Matthew replied frantically and Arthur grit his teeth. Matthew's plane losing the fragile balance it already had would mark the second crash of a friend Arthur had seen of the day.

"_Mattie! No, no! Artie, I gotta land quick!"_

"Calm down Alfred, he's fine, there's no fire, he's probably just got a broken bone or two, calm down!" Arthur shook his head. "You'll hurt yourself too if you hurry things.

The silence signaled that Alfred considered Arthur's words. "…Okay…" The two of them landed side by side and the rain started to come down hard when Alfred jumped out of his plane and raced over to the location of Matthew's accident, quite a few medics already on the scene. "Is he going to be okay? Please tell me he'll be okay."

"Yes, yes Alfred, he'll be fine," Toris, one of Alfred's good friends nodded his head. The Lithuanian was one of their best medics and was ninety percent of the time right with his predictions. "It looks like just a few bruises and a dislocated arm, not likely to have broken anything, so he's fine Alfred."

Alfred smiled. "Thanks Toris…we're just…" his gaze fell to the ground as if it were suddenly weighed down. "Francis died…"

III

Alfred sat on his bed, holding Arthur close to him. They were lucky Gilbert was so laid back on the 'gays in the army' subject that he didn't report them or fuss about them. He was very glad and lucky. "Are you okay?"

"No, I'm not okay," Arthur muttered. "My best friend just died and my shoulder is killing me."

"I don't have anything to say…" Alfred sighed, hugging Arthur closer to himself, lightly rubbing Arthur's bandaged shoulder. He didn't want to lose Arthur now that reality had smacked them in the faces. "Why'd we sign up for this in the first place…?"

"Because we were stupid and thought that it'd be fun," Arthur deadpanned, rubbing one of his eyes. "It's fun while it lasts."

"I should've followed you guys…" Alfred muttered into Arthur's blond hair. "I should've…Francis wouldn't have died if I followed you guys…"

"Don't say that," Arthur wept. "I could've lost you and that would've been much worse…"

"Not in Mattie's opinion," Alfred muttered. "Come on, I think we should go visit…"

The two entered the small building, immediately spotting Matthew sobbing in his medical bed. Shoulders slumping, Arthur stopped and told Alfred that he thought that it was a better idea if just Alfred went to talk with his cousin. Reluctantly, Alfred agreed and continued on until he had pulled a chair next to the bedside and seated himself in it.

"What'll I do?" Matthew sobbed, rubbing vigorously at his eyes that continued to produce salty tears. "What'll I do Al? I don't know what to do—Francis is dead," he choked on the word 'dead' and sobbed once more. "I don't know what to do Al!"

Alfred pulled his relative into a hug, making sure he didn't irritate the arm Matthew had injured. It was already extremely lonely without Francis's presence. Normally if any of them including himself had landed themselves in the medical tent, he'd be cracking jokes and making fun of them, keeping things lighthearted. Alfred would join in every now and then unless it was Arthur who had gotten hurt, but now, they couldn't joke about anything. Maybe not even ever again.

"Al, I lost him…I lost him Alfred, I don't know what to do…" Matthew repeated, burying his face into Alfred's bomber jacket, tears streaming down his cheeks with no end in sight. His heart hurt so much and Matthew just wanted to go to sleep and never wake up. Or have Francis shake him awake and tell him that it was all just a horrible nightmare. They've been in the air apart from each other longer than this and Matthew was already longing for the French pilot's presence. "Oh Francis…" he wept.

Alfred rocked his cousin slowly as he wept Francis's name over and over, muttering about how he should've done something and how he had this aching feeling that he should fight with his radio on. It broke the American's heart and he sighed shakily, wiping away a tear.

Arthur sat in the chair Alfred was in not too long ago, the other having gone off to get themselves some dinner. So he was left with the task of hugging Matthew until the other didn't feel the need to attach himself to either Alfred or Arthur anymore. That didn't seem like any time soon though. "Matthew, Matthew…his last words were for you though...he told me to tell you that he loved you. And his last words were similar. Like some hope that your radio was on he told you that he loved you…"

Matthew sniffed and broke down even further if it were possible. "I love him too Arthur. If only I could've told him that. Francis, I love you too…"

Arthur closed his eyes and hugged Matthew closer to himself, feeling the tears well up in his eyes as Matthew poured out all of his thoughts and feelings to the world. Matthew would be heartbroken for the rest of his life.

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** That was depressing the write TT^TT Well, I don't have much to say after that other than I feel bad for killing Francis and breaking poor Mattie's already seemingly fragile heart. Please review, love to hear what you have to say and peace out my friends. :)**

**Fun Fact: Hitler helped invent the Volkswagen. **


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